


Achy Apples

by Oopsynini



Series: Apple Slices [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Caring Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley's adorable nicknames, Daddy Aziraphale, Family Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Massage, Mentions of past mpreg, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Papa Crowley, Partial Nudity, Sleepy Cuddles, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:15:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oopsynini/pseuds/Oopsynini
Summary: Taking a long pull from the wine glass in his hand, Crowley browsed the halls of the home he shared with his family. Peeking into Apfel’s room, he just barely caught a glimpse of pink curls over the top of her bassinet. He heard not a fuss from within, so he quietly backed out from the room, more than happy to leave his little lump to her dreams and musing. His weight on the outside landing had the floorboards squeaking, and he glanced down at them, glowering until they silenced themselves. “That’s better.” He mutter, tipping his glass in thanks before he headed down the hall. He had other things he could preoccupy his devilish mind with, namely one lovely Angel.A content Crowley happens upon a sleepy Aziraphale and decides he could use a nice massage. This is the man who birthed his newborn daughter, after all.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Apple Slices [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1744975
Comments: 34
Kudos: 137





	Achy Apples

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of the Apple Slices series, each piece can be read as a one-shot, but it's nice to read them as a whole.

_Apfel - 1 month_

Taking a long pull from the wine glass in his hand, Crowley browsed the halls of the home he shared with his family. Peeking into Apfel’s room, he just barely caught a glimpse of pink curls over the top of her bassinet. He heard not a fuss from within, so he quietly backed out from the room, more than happy to leave his little lump to her dreams and musing. His weight on the outside landing had the floorboards squeaking, and he glanced down at them, glowering until they silenced themselves. “That’s better.” He mutter, tipping his glass in thanks before he headed down the hall. He had other things he could preoccupy his devilish mind with, namely one lovely Angel.

Now, if only he could find the fine fellow. He hadn’t been haunting his bookshop, nor the kitchen, two of his very favorite gathering spots. That limited his options down to a select few locations, the main of which was their shared bedroom.

And there Aziraphale slept, his pale, delicate body sprawled across the blankets in repose, limbs cast hither and far across their navy blue duvet. He was like a cat, taking up far too much space for such a short fellow. Crowley found it unbearably, mouth-wateringly, sexy. He’d never seen the Angel at rest up until recently. Crowley had always been the one for a good nap. Now it was Angel’s turn, it would seem, and Crowley couldn’t begrudge him a minute of it.

He could, however, take in a good eyeful and maybe catch a feel or two while he was at it. “Hmmm…” Aziraphale mumbled drowsily as Crowley crawled onto the bed, moving in to drape himself with extreme care across the Angel’s front.

“Hmmm…right back at you, my saucy marshmallow.” Crowley purred, golden eyes looking over his angel’s beloved face. Bending, he pressed a kiss to one dimpled cheek, moving to flutter lips feather-light until he could taste the dazzling center of his angel. Like strawberry ambrosia, he fell upon Azira’s lips, so pure and sweet it hurt down to Crowley’s hell damned soul. Sometimes Crowley wondered if he could ascend back to heaven on those lips alone. 

“Oh, you’ve opened the Cabernet Sauvignon?” Aziraphale moaned sleepily, licking the taste of wine from his lips before meeting him back kiss for a sweet kiss. His fingers clutched the red fabric of Crowley’s button down to pull him in close.

“I did. Want a sip?” The demon chuckled against warm lips, leaning back only enough to press the wine glass close to the angel’s lips.

“Mmm…yes.” His eyelids fluttered closed as he savored the small sip Crowley allotted him, sighing happily. “Oh, how I miss alcohol.” He moaned, Crowley hummed his agreement.

“You’re a saint. It’s a good thing I knocked you up. I don’t know what I would have done.” Crowley admitted, knocking back the last of the wine before reaching out one long arm and depositing the glass on the bedside table. Settling back along Aziraphale, he drank the taste of wine from his mouth, now tinted with warm summer fruit and holiness. He let his hands wandered under sleep clothes, hitching them up around bare thighs so he could knead long fingers into the muscles there. Aziraphale’s groan of contentment was a heady elixir.

“Dearest, whatever is this for?” Aziraphale gasped against his lips before turning to allow himself access to Crowley’s throat. Crowley hissed at the light pressure of teeth on the tender skin there, turning his head so he could open his neck up to further attention. 

“Mmm, just saw you and thought you looked far too edible to resist.” He admitted, pressing a smattering of kisses to one pale shoulder.

“I’m flattered, love, but I don’t think I can-”

“Shhhh… don't be daft.” Crowley smothered Aziraphale’s protests with his lips, forked tongue flickering over the pink swell of them in reprimand. “This is all I wanted, nothing more.” He turned his attention to his husband’s knee, working his hands in a gentle caress down the knobby protrusions. They were a work of art, really, milky skin sliding like silk over hard bone. Pressing a kiss to it, he paused in his ministrations in order to swoop a bottle of oil into existence.

“Just want to spoil you until you’re my content little cherub, comfortably and sleepy.” He explained, urging Aziraphale onto his belly and chuckling at how awkward the poor fellow managed it. He wasn’t used to operating without the heavy weight of their daughter inside of him. Up until a month ago, he wouldn’t have been able to lay on his belly at all. “Now tell your husband where it hurts.”

Aziraphale wuffled into his pillows, the sound inaudible through all the stuffing. “Louder, darling, or I’ll start with your elbows.” He teased, chuckling at the blush that stained the back of Aziraphale’s neck. Grunting, the angel turned his head to the side, peering up at Crowley with the most lovely blue eyes. The blush extended to his cheeks, making him look positively scrumptious. “My lower back would be lovely if you could?”

Crowley saluted his approval, straddling the swell of Aziraphale’s thighs so he could get in nice and close. Pale skin flinched from the cold oil as he dribbled it down the warm expanse of Aziraphale's back. Crowley crooned an apology, setting to warming the oil up with long strokes of his fingers up and down Aziraphale’s back, focusing on those lower muscles that seemed to ache so. Muscle gave under his dexterous hands.

The moan Aziraphale released was a low in the throat, a whimper of a thing that bordered the edge of pain, and Crowley furrowed his brow. He hated to see his Angel hurting. “Oh darling, you should tell me about these things. I’m more than happy to help.” He scowled, tugging the waistband of Azira’s brief’s down to snap against his buttocks in a gentle reprimand, exposing the upper part of them to his long fingers. The oil made Aziraphale’s skin glisten and slide under his hands. The scent of rose and jasmine tingling his nose.

He dug his hands into the small of Aziraphale’s back, humming the words to Queen’s 'Don’t Stop Me Now' under his breath. Working his way lower, he took a moment to play the drums on Aziraphale’s rump, sending the Angel into a fit of giggles. 

“What? You don’t like my drumming?” The smirk he offered was inordinately pleased as he gave the other man’s voluptuous rump one final thump before he got back to business.

“No-no, it sounded lovely.” Aziraphale squeaked, shoulders tensing as Crowley came in contact with a particularly wretched knot. “Oooo…that’s horrid.” He moaned, fingers clenching into the duvet.

Crowley winced in sympathy, persisting until he felt the muscle loosen. “There.” He bent to kiss the achy spot in apology for having to handle it so roughly. The skin was a lovely shade of red. “Aren’t you pretty?” He moved his work higher, and very soon, Aziraphale was a sloppy, drowsy thing, muttering soft appreciation, but otherwise catatonic under Crowley’s loving touch. He made a lovely picture.

A soft cry had both of them glancing towards the door. Crowley was up before Aziraphale could offer to get her. Reaching for a pillow, he aimed with dangerous accuracy and thwapped it in Aziraphale’s face as the angel made to follow him. “Go to sleep. I’ll take care of her.” He commanded, grinning wickedly at the dazed look Aziraphale sent him over the top of the pillow.

Stepping into her room Crowley took a moment to scowl down at his little girl. The look didn’t last long, instead breaking into a smile as she swung her little fist his way. “You have quite the timing, my little hellspawn. What is it you need from papa? Shite yourself again?”

“Stop saying shite to our daughter Crowley!” Came Aziraphale’s shout from the other room and Crowley let his face drop into a mask of surprise.

“Oh shite, daddy caught us!” He whispered loudly, eyes mischievous and cheerful as he drew her from her bassinet. The stench that followed was worthy of the lower echelons of hells.“Oh, Go-something, that’s horrid Poppyseed.” He choked at the smell that hit him, waving a hand to send the dirty nappy off into oblivion. He hoped it ended up on Beezlebub’s desk, that’d be worth hearing about. “Now then, let’s find you a new nappy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Who doesn't like a message 
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated.  
> Read on Episode 4 is up!


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